


Last Night of Safe

by insertcleveruserhere



Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Blow Job, Blow Jobs, CDC, Daryl Dixon Smut, Daryl Smut, F/M, Night Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-21
Updated: 2017-10-21
Packaged: 2019-01-20 14:00:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12434322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insertcleveruserhere/pseuds/insertcleveruserhere
Summary: You pounded on the door of the CDC, the adrenaline masking the pain shooting from your hands, back up to your arms. The walkers - zombies, whatever they were - had been closing in, and now, you sat at the dining table as if nothing had happened, your knuckles bound, and locked eyes with him.Something felt off. Safety seemed to be an overstatement, a luxury none of them could afford.But you'd be damned if you let it go to waste.





	Last Night of Safe

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this at midnight, so I wish I could be sorry.

You'd pounded on the door of the CDC, the adrenaline masking the pain shooting from your hands, back up to your arms. The rotters - walkers, whatever they were - had been closing in, and now, you sat at the dining table as if nothing had happened, your knuckles bound, and locked eyes with him.

Something felt off. Safety seemed to be an overstatement, a luxury none of them could afford.

But you'd be damned if you let it go to waste.

The smile he sent you, those stupid little half grins that seemed to be solely reserved for you now, sent a coil of nerves straight to the pit of your stomach, and you tore your eyes away before he brought the rim of the bottle to his lips, taking yet another long drink. Shane was talking to you, and you were certain Andrea was staring, but you swirled the contents of your cup like it was the most interesting thing you could find. 

"...hope you find everything to your liking?" The pointed looks signal that Edwin Jenner was directing the question solely to you, and embarrassment replaces the pool of whatever had coiled in your stomach moments prior. 

"Oh, um..." You trip over your words, setting your glass aside, "This place is safe, right? The rotters can't get in?"

Edwin nods, "Completely secure." The promise should be reassuring, but you couldn't bring yourself to believe him. "I haven't had a run in with any of the rotters, as you so call them."

You say nothing else, staring at the food in front of you, wetting your lips. There was no way it was that simple, not after everything else that happened. It wasn't fair - not to Merle, and not to your family. 

Merle. Your eyes flitted up to Daryl, who'd seemingly abandoned his liquor before shitfacing himself. He looks at you, and must see the somber look you'd chosen to wear. You'd been the most desperate to get in, the most desperate to get away. And now, you looked the worst for wear.

"Doc," Daryl speaks up, "You got a shower in this joint?"

You furrow your brow. 

Flirting. Harmless flirting had been the entirety of yours and Daryl's relationship up until you calmed him down after finding what remained of Merle's cauterized stump. You'd been the only reason he didn't hurl himself into the abyss to find his brother, and you didn't know what that meant. After Amy, you didn't exactly have much time to discuss the terms and conditions of whatever you were. 

"Oh, yes." He shakes his head, "I'm sorry, you all must be practically feral for some hot water. Second door down the hall to the right. I'll show you to your rooms."

He doesn't have a fresh change of clothes for you, but as you stand under the warm embrace of the water, you manage to focus on that, the tiny droplets of water forming on your arms and across the expanse of your body. 

"Lookin' for company?"

You don't jump when you hear his voice, associating it with calm, quiet before the storm. You fake a smile when you see him, uncaring of your naked state. It reminded you of how he found you in the first place, but you pushed those awful memories from your head, crossing your arms over your chest. 

"Didn't take you for the promiscuous type." 

He almost chortles at that, and shrugs his vest off. "What type'd that be, sunshine?"

It was obvious Daryl had taken some sort of fondness toward you. He found you that day, bloodied and bruised and naked, the only survivor and -

Your breath hitches as you shut your eyes. Ever since then, you'd distanced yourself to easy flirting, putting up with his brother and that rest of his group. Until his brother.

"Rough 'n tumble." You joke, running your finger across your scalp as you let a sigh escape your lips, "The kind who gets permission and doesn't hold back." You let your eyes travel from his lips to the nape of his neck before you chastise yourself, "What're you doing in here anyways?"

"All the other showers're occupied." You swear you see the tease of a smile on his lips, but in a minute, he turns deadly serious, "You mind if I join you, sunshine?"

You motion for him to join you, and he hardly wastes any time. 

You toss the shampoo to him, but suddenly, he looks bashful, as if he had been taking some risk in stepping in the shower with you. You supposed he had, but he was the one who asked to join you, and you'd been more than accepting to let you in. 

"You okay?" You try to keep it casual, as if you didn't see his eyes cast to the floor, or the way he held the bottle of soap like it was his only lifeline.

He hesitates, but manages to say, "I, uh...don't want you to think any less o' me." His voice is desperate, and you want nothing more than to understand why. 

You raise a brow, "Never." It comes out in little more than a breath of a whisper.

Slowly, you move out of the way so the water can hit him, and he hands you the soap wordlessly. 

They come into view one by one, and you can't help the gasp that passes your lips. The soap slips from your grasp, and you have to restrain yourself from reaching out to touch them. 

"Who..." You stop, curling your fingers back toward you, your voice turning murderous, "Who did this to you?"

"He's dead now."

You assume the worst, eyes widening in disgust as he turns to look at you. "Merle...he did this to you?"

He shakes his head, "No. Merle ain't dead." He sounds so sure, and you wish you had his confidence, "But..." He turns around, "How you holding up? After..." 

"Better." It comes out too quickly, and he must see that you're lying, but he lets it go. "Do...do they hurt?" 

"Not anymore." He promises, and you wish you believed him. You both had your pasts, and hoped that, one day, you'd both be brave enough to tell one another the truth. 

You take a long, steadying breath, "Kiss me, please."

He hesitates for what felt like the millionth time that night before taking your chin between his thumb and index finger, and pressing his lips to yours, in an innocent, close-mouthed kiss. You're the one who draws him closer, wrapping your arms around him and pressing your knee between his thighs, the heat of the moment and the scalding water proving to be too much, too much all at once, and you wanted to feel all of him -

"No." He pulls away, shaking his head, "There's..."

"Daryl." You plead, "Don't, please." Don't push you away like the others. Don't push you away like everyone after Merle. You didn't know if you could take any more heartbreak, and right now, you didn't know what you needed. This, this felt right, for once. 

He grimaces, as if in pain, but when he kisses you again, he's made his decision for the night. 

You end up in his room - you think, you don't really care to check - both hardly in clothes, kissing and groping at one another like it was your last night. For all you knew, it was. This could be the last safe night you would ever have, and you'd be damned if you weren't going to have sex with this man.

You push the door shut and lock it as fast as you can, throwing your shirt aside, and sidling right back up to him. With a flourish, you push him back onto the bed, a wicked grin playing on your lips. He's still got his shirt on, but you're more interested in more important things. 

"You ain't wasting..." His breath hitches as you pull his pants down past his waist, "time." You smile, more to yourself than him, and toss his pants and boxers aside unceremoniously, uncaring of where they ended up. 

You'd just seen him naked not even ten minutes ago, but you took that moment to stop and admire him. He was sprawled over the bed, a panting mess with a hard on, and though he'd never admit it, he couldn't stand it if you walked out now. He wanted to give you the out, to tell you that you were welcome to leave now if you had second thoughts, but he wanted this, hell, needed you.

And then your tongue smears the pre-cum on the tip of his dick, and he sees stars.

It's a simple gesture, one that you do while staring up at him like the cat that ate the canary. He bites his lips so he doesn't turn into a moaning panting mess with a hard on, and clutches onto the mattress. 

You take the base with your right hand, and set to work, enveloping the tip with your lips and adjusting yourself so you'd both be comfortable.

Moaning be damned, he was begging, calling your name like a prayer as you brought him ever closer to the edge. How long had he refused to let himself even think of you? And now, here you were, just above him. He supposed it had been as soon as you told him your name, after Andrea gave you those spare clothes -

No. Nothing was more of a mood killer than thinking of Andrea.

And you were swirling your tongue in all the right places, making him moan and grab the sheets until he's a writhing mess beneath you.

And you, you had dreamt of this in detail for God knows how long. His hand on the back of your head, your lips around him, the way his hips bucked even though he was doing everything in his power to restrain himself -

He comes.

It comes without warning, and with a long string of profanities following, and choking on your end. Long streaks of cum surprise you, and you're almost as taken aback as he is. 

"Mother fucker." He swears, pushing himself up to lean against the wall, "Son of a fucking dick." His head falls in his hands as if he can't believe it, and you stand, wiping away at the cum on your jaw.

"Daryl?" You ask as soon as you get your bearings, and again, he refuses to look at you. "Daryl, what's wrong?"

"I just jizzed all over your face!" He all but yells, panic overtaking him as he finally makes eye contact again.

Instead of saying anything, you smile and reinstate yourself on the bed, taking his hand in your own. He flinches, and your smile falters, but you merely lean in close to say, "I promise, it was more than okay, Daryl." He shivers beneath you, and something blossoms in your chest that makes you feel more than happy to be right there, right then. 

"So, ah...'ve you done that before?"

You have to hold in the snort that threatened to pass, and instead shrug, "It's not that big a deal. What..." You were entirely horny still, but you figured that now was the time to get your answers, lest you get none at all, "what d'you want this to be?" You choose your words as carefully as you can, treading lightly. "If it's just a one night thing, I get it, but...I wanted..." It'd be stupid to have an actual relationship out there, but you'd be lying to yourself if that isn't what you wanted. And, now, you had the CDC. Maybe, just maybe, things were starting to look up. 

He passes a hand over his hair and sighs, "I, ah...I dunno. I want...somethin' more than just tonight?" He presents it like a question, and as an answer, you move your free hand to cup his cheek.

"Something more."

Damn your last night of safe.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, yes, I'm going to Hell for this. But, hey, you're the reader.
> 
> You're the follower.
> 
> You're divulging the sin.
> 
> See you there.


End file.
